


My Gift to You

by TekkaWekka



Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: Dragon AU, Egg Laying Scene, Eggpreg, Eggs Aren't Fertile Though, Kinda Sorta Mpreg, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-25
Updated: 2018-11-25
Packaged: 2019-08-29 01:41:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16734639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TekkaWekka/pseuds/TekkaWekka
Summary: Inspired by TheSpaceCoyote's Channeled Hearts. Blue Dragon Rhys is entering his "egg month," where he will develop and lay a clutch of, for now, infertile eggs. Black Dragon Jack has some ideas on how to make Rhys' egg month quite special.





	My Gift to You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TheSpaceCoyote](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSpaceCoyote/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Channeled Hearts](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15983159) by [TheSpaceCoyote](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSpaceCoyote/pseuds/TheSpaceCoyote). 



> No beta we die like meh.

As a sorcerer of the Blue dragonflight, Rhys was no stranger to tracking cycles and periods of time, all for the purpose of casting the right spells at the best possible stellar alignment. While most spells could be conjured without regard as to which planet was rising in what house, sometimes Rhys needed the added strength of the stars when attempting a truly powerful work. Such careful study of the stars and planets left Rhys with a usually accurate sense of the passage of time.

Which made it odd that until Jack brought home his latest treasure, a golden music box shaped like an egg, Rhys had completely forgotten about his upcoming laying cycle. Rhys placed all the blame on Jack and told him so.

“Oh? What did I do this time, frostflower?” Jack held the music box over one of the wooden display stands Rhys insisted on conjuring; if Jack intended on keeping Rhys inside Jack’s lair, Rhys had insisted Jack bring his hoard’s organization up to Blue standards. Jack had fussed and huffed for a full week as Rhys cleaned, shined, recorded, and organized (all with the help of magic; Rhys was no housemaid, no matter how Jack teased), but afterwards Rhys often caught Jack looking over his hoard with proud pleasure. “Did I ruin too many pages of that dumb spellbook? You know you can learn and have a lot more fun if--”

“ _No_ , Jack.” Rhys rolled his eyes as he sprawled out on Jack’s bed, rubbing his cheek against a soft fur. “You’ve spent so much time fucking me stupid that I forgot next month is my egg month.”

Only a quick levitation charm from Rhys kept the music box from smashing to pieces after it slipped from Jack’s suddenly nerveless hands. Rhys barely placed the music box on the stand before Jack covered Rhys’ body with his own, the massive black dragon sniffing up and down Rhys’ neck.

“Jack--”

“You don’t smell fertile, kiddo.” Jack snuffled a little more, hot breath tickling Rhys’ skin, before he nipped at Rhys’s ear. “You screwing with me? Not funny, Rhys.”

Rhys growled, lying his head on his neck to protect his sensitive skin before pressing the side of his horn into Jack’s face. Jack inched back, frowning.

“I’m a sorcerer of the flight of magic, Jack. I know a contraceptive spell or six.” Rhys pulled up his legs, wrapping his tail around them and hugging them to his belly. Even with the fertility spell tamping down his scent, instincts, and hormones, having such a pushy alpha wyrm near him with his eggs forming was...unsettling. “Don’t worry, there won’t be any kittens running around this lair.”

Jack sat back, giving Rhys even more space. His gaze fell down to Rhy’s belly, and Rhys felt the prickle of Jack feeling through their bond. Rhys bared his teeth, and Jack smiled.

“You’re being more grumpy than usual, gorgeous, so you must be brewing up a litter in there.” Jack reached into his armor and held out a silver ring, enchanted with a minor wind charm. A peace offering. “Here, snack a little. You little blues need more magic when expecting, right?”

Rhys gazed at the offering before unwinding his tail enough to swipe the arm ring out of Jack’s hand. He brought it up to his mouth and bit into the metal and magic with a _clunk_.

“Not expecting, Jack.”

“Yeah, yeah, contraception spell. But,” Jack smirked, “you know I’m a big ol’ wyrm with a big ol’ cock. And in that cock is a lot of--” Jack thrust his hips forward, shaking the bed-- “Oomph. You sure Big Jack can’t overpower some little spell?”

“This is one of the most ancient, most refined, and most reliable of all blue dragon spells.” Rhys rolled his eyes and took another bite. “Besides, the eggs aren’t even formed yet. Nothing for _little_ Jack to fertilize.”

“Ooh, snowdrop, that just makes me want to try harder.” Jack wriggled closer, taking Rhys’ ankles into his claws. “Practice now, and then really crank up the firepower once you’re carrying.”

“Jaaack.” Rhys whined, but let Jack part his thighs. “Once I’m carrying, I won’t even be able to _fit_ your cock, your cum, and my eggs.”

“Oh come on, frostflower, you know even the attempt will be fun.” Jack nibbled up Rhy’s thigh, worrying the bunched up fabric between Rhy’s legs with his teeth. “Say yes. C’mon.”

“It’s a ridiculous idea, Jack…”

Jack buried his head underneath Rhy’s robes, his massive tail wagging like a happy puppy’s as he breathed hot air over Rhy’s slit.

“Dare I mention that all these attempts will leave you full to bursting with my magical, awesome, super-potent cum that’ll send your own magic through the roof?”

Rhys gasped as Jack’s tongue traced the pale scales of his slit.

“Well, _mmn_ , you have a point there.”

***

Rhys spent the month leading up to--and his egg month--full to bursting with Jack’s seed, just as promised.

Jack would wake him with his tongue curling into Rhy’s slit before “Big Jack” would “say good morning” to “pretty little Rhys.” Then any attempt at a morning bath on Rhy’s bath would be foiled by Jack fucking into him _again_ , as according to Jack, he couldn’t resist “taking you again when I see your pearly little slit all filthy with my cum.” Rhys might get an hour to study spellbooks before Jack crept up and bent Rhys over his study desk, and that was a _good_ day; bad days, Rhys would have to try and study while Jack was knotted inside him. Rhys got a few hours to rest, bathe, and eat when Jack left to gorge himself on fresh game, and then they would fuck and breed and knot until Rhys, blissed out of his mind, drifted off to sleep.

Jack took Rhys in every room of his winding lair, atop every shining treasure, and would’ve even desecrated the already abused spellbooks if Rhys hadn’t bitten Jack good and hard for even voicing the thought. Rhys didn’t know if he took in more food or more cum during those two months.

Rhys spent so much time with his belly swollen with cum it took several weeks for him to realize the near-constant bulge in his belly _also_ came from his eggs. The second Rhys told Jack the eggs were formed, Jack was ready to go right then and there, but Rhys held him off.

“I wasn’t kidding about the _fit_ , Jack.” Rhys ran his claws over his belly, feeling out the eggs with his magic. They were infertile, but still primed with mingled Black and Blue magic--not to mention bigger than any eggs he’d carried before. He creased his forehead as he pressed more firmly on his belly. “I don’t think I can even carry these to term.”

“Oh, come on.” Jack placed his claws atop Rhys, thumb-claws tracing the lines of Rhy’s tattoos. They had spread over most of his body, now, and glowed even when Rhys slept. “Haven’t you noticed, frostflower? _You’ve_ gotten bigger, too.”

Rhys blinked and looked down at his body. His robes still fit, but they were enchanted to grow with him, a basic spell for any sorcerer.

“Come with me.”

Jack swept Rhys into his arms--no matter how much he’d claimed Rhys had grown, he could still do that--and bore him deeper into the lair. They stopped beside an underground lake Rhys dimly remembered from a previous sex session, during the two months Jack insisted upon rubbing their mating musk into every chamber of his lair. Rhys turned to question Jack, only for Jack to force him to face the water.

“Change, Rhys.”

Rhys gave the cavern a quick look, and then, satisfied there was enough room for his drake form, let his magic rush over him. Scales slithered over his skin, wings bloomed from his back, and the ground fell away, and away, and away as Rhys realized he was growing much taller than usual.

By the time Rhys’ true shape finished forming around him, Rhys was spellbound by his own reflection in the lake. Glowing blue runes of might and power adorned his legs and wings, while his horns, now doubled in size, gleamed with embedded crystals. He took a careful step and the cavern floor quaked; he tentatively swept his tail, and stalagmites shattered.

 _Careful now,_ little _blue_. Rhys felt the heat of Jack’s true shape behind him. _Don’t go wrecking my lair now that you’re a big boy._ Rhys craned his long, graceful neck over his shoulder and saw Jack’s fanged maw split into a gargautan grin. _Or should I say big wyrm?_

 _You’re still much bigger._ Rhys couldn’t stop his delight from infecting the tone of his mind speech. _But holy shit. Sex did this?!_

 _Oh, it can do a lot more still._ Jack rubbed his neck against Rhys’, nipping at the runed scales, and Rhys instinctively lowered his hips and lifted his tail. _Let me show you._

The underground lake needed a cleaning charm from Rhys once they were done.

 ***

Even though Jack proved Rhys could take his cock while carrying his eggs, Rhys still demanded and received a slow down in their carnal activities. Jack accepted without protest, and showed an unexpected patience with Rhys as he grew heavier and less graceful with so much weight concentrated in his belly. Near the end of his egg month, Rhys could only enjoy sex if Jack arranged just so to support Rhys’ egg-laden belly.

Jack moved pillows and blankets and furs without complaint. If Rhys didn’t know better, he’d assume Jack considered their sex something _special_. Still, all the consideration in the world couldn’t keep Rhys from feeling bloated and hot and _sore_ , so when he woke up with the mother of all cramps one morning, it was almost a relief.

“Jack.” The black wyrm twitched under the covers, then nothing. “Jack!”

Swearing under his breath, Rhys reached out and slapped Jack’s backside with his tail. Jack threw aside the covers with a yowl, scowling until he saw the look in Rhy’s eyes.

“Oh, kiddo--is it time? Do you need anything? Water? Or ice--I know you blues love--”

“Help me get into position, damn it.” Struggling to his feet, Rhys almost slapped Jack again when the alpha wyrm grabbed Rhys’ hips with his claws. “This is the worst goddamn laying cramp I’ve ever had, and it’s your fault.”

“I remember someone agreeing to this whoooole enterprise,” said Jack. He wrapped his tail around Rhys’ as Rhys waddled over to the laying creche. While not as messy as laying fertile eggs, any fluids dripping from Rhys during the act would irreversibly stain--and enchant--anything they touched. Jack was damn fond of his bed, and didn’t want to lose it to the wild magic. “Someone could’ve pushed me off dozens off times, but I kept hearing _someone_ cry out ‘more, Big Jack, more!’”

“Someone’s going to be dickless Jack if he doesn’t shut up.” Rhys knelt in the creche and lifted his tail out of the way. “And how could I--aah!”

Rhys clutched his stomach and a stream of sweet-smelling fluid flowed from his slit. He breathed in, shivering as his pale cock slid out into the air. While longer now, it was still slender and sensitive, dripping precum into the creche.

“Oh, that’s the ticket.” Jack pressed himself against Rhys’ back, arms wrapped around Rhys’ chest. “The good part’s coming, yeah? Feeling yourself stretch. Is it bigger than me?”

“I-It’s not that quick, JaaaaAH!” Rhys squirmed as Jack palmed his slit, and then slid one claw inside. “Wha--ah…”

“Feels like it’s coming on quick.” Jack grinned as he stroked the soft inner flesh of Rhys’ dialated slit, and then withdrew to keep from getting in the way. “Now, is it bigger?”

Rhys keened, his tail constricting Jack’s. The stretch was terrific, should have burned and torn, but the sweet fluids leaking from his slit lubricated the way and healed straining flesh. Rhys squirmed and panted and arched hard, bucking his hips, and then the first egg landed in Jack’s waiting claws.

“Oh, snowflower, you’ve got to see this--”

“ _Jack!”_

The stretch, the strain, the pleasure was unrelenting. By the time the second egg pressed against the entrance of Rhys' womb, he had come with his cock and his slit; by the time the textured shell rubbed the outermost lips of Rhys’ slit, he was painfully hard again. Jack licked and sucked and nipped at Rhys’ neck, crooning encouragement, but Rhys heard nothing at all.

All his focus, all his senses narrowed down to the unending waves of pleasure radiating from his overstretched slit. He couldn’t count how many eggs slid into Jack’s hand, or how many times his cock spurted until he came dry. The pleasure grew in him, heated him, would drive him mad, would kill him--

“Just one more, Rhys, you look so good, so perfect, just one more--”

The last egg rubbed against over-sensitized flesh, tore a cry from a throat aching from screams of pleasure. Rhys swayed, his tail limp, the last of the sweet-smelling birth fluids leaking down his thighs. He fell against something hard, something hot, and then he fell unconscious.

 ***

When Rhys awoke, it was to a clean body and sheets, a body as limp as water, and mismatched eyes staring into his own.

“Hey, gorgeous.” Jack leaned forward and kissed Rhys’ forehead. “We, uh, may have overdid during your egg month.”

A bolt of fear struck Rhys’ spine.

“Am I paralyzed?! I can’t feel my--”

“Whoa, whoa, we didn’t do it THAT much.” Jack grinned, and Rhys’ fear promptly changed into a strong desire to slap him. “But, uh, you were out for a couple days. I doubt that’s normal.”

“DAYS!?!”

Suddenly Rhys’ legs worked just fine, and so do his hands, and he was more than recovered enough to latch onto Jack and chew him out until his ass is tenderized.

“--And I swear by every star that if you didn’t give the me the best orgasm physically and magically possible, I would eat your dick off.”

“But you do that already, sweet thing.”

Fortunately for Jack, Rhys’ adrenaline ran out right then and he collapsed back onto the bed.

“What have I gotten myself into…”

“Not much, not yet.” Jack crawl onto the bed and covered Rhys’ body. “Hey Rhys. Guess what I did while you were out.”

“Fuck my unconscious body?”

“Ew, no. You blues are gross.” Jack wrinkled his nose for all of a second before smiling. “I made you a gift. Sit up.”

With a little help from Jack arranging pillows, Rhys sat up. Jack strolled over to one of the conjured display cabinets, pulled out a satin sack larger than Rhys’ torso, and carried back to the bed like he was presenting Rhys with a fresh kill.

“Tear it open, Rhys. I’ve made the most gorgeous artifact you will ever see.”

Rhys rolled his eyes and sliced the sack open with claws. When the satin fluttered the ground, he was struck by a wave of familiar magic; he had to take a breath before he could truly see what Jack had given him.

Sitting on his lap was an enormous basin of mingled silver and gold; not electrum, but swirls of silver and gold chasing each other. At the very bottom was a cushion of deepest blue silk decorated with runes of warmth, protection, and luck. And space equally around the rim of the basin, powering the runes with their magic, were his eggs.

They were the loveliest gems Rhys had ever seen. Their shells gleamed with the starry blue of eggs laid by the oldest and most talented blue sorcerers, but the eggs were lit from within by a powerful flame of black magic. Flecks of gold lined the textured swirls he’d felt so keenly during his laying, and the swirls converged at the very apex of the egg into a shining spiral galaxy of gold and silver.

The beauty left Rhys in such wonder it took him a full minute to recognize the basin for what it was. When he did, he wrapped his tail around his body.

“Jack,” he said, his voice barely more than a whisper, “this is a cradle.”

“I know.”

“For fertilized eggs.”

“I know.”

Jack leaned in, and Rhys’ breath caught as Jack placed a claw on Rhys’ still-rounded belly.

“I know it’ll be a while before your next egg month,” said Jack. His mouth sounded rougher than usual. “So it’ll give you time to think. But you and I, our bond is something rare, snowflower. We could create a damn dynasty, if we bred. So just,” Jack swallowed, “think about it.”

“Jack…”

Rhys leaned forward, lowering his horns. Jack touched his horns to Rhys', and both dragons breathed in.

 It was an incredible, ridiculous, absurd, traitorous offer. A blue sorcerer mating and breeding with a black wyrm? After all the blue flight had suffered at the hands of black dragons? Yet, Rhys knew his offspring with Jack would be sorcerers of incredible power, able to retake everything the blue flight had lost and more. Rhys breathed in again, and then lifted his head to look Jack in the eye.

 “This is an incredible offer.” Rhys swallowed hard. “And I will need time to think about it.”

 To his surprise, Jack did not pout or start to press him. Instead, the great wyrm granted him a surprisingly warm smile.

“Hey, that’s better than you telling me to fuck off.” Jack looked down at the cradle, and then smiled again. “Whatever you choose...that’s my gift to you. They’re your eggs, anyway.”

Rhys smiled, and then curled around the cradle as if it was full of his clutch already. The familiar and incredible magic was a balm to his strained nerves.

“For right now, no sex from me for you. I’m still recovering feeling in my legs.”

“Oh Rhys, come on!”

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, this wasn't beta'd, and it's the first work I've written in...three years? If you see any grammatical errors, please let me know so I can fix them. And if you like it, read Channeled Hearts and leave TheSpaceCoyote a good comment!


End file.
